I want the future we were promised
by The Crownless Queen
Summary: After the war, Harry moves in with Andromeda, gets back with Ginny, raises Teddy, and battles the aftermaths of said war.


This was written for Lizzy - Happy belated birthday! I hope you enjoy this story; it did run away from me a little bit…

Also written for Hogwarts' Honeycomb Challenge: (word) decorative and the Writing Club, Showtime: (character) Harry Potter.

 _Word count:_ 7154

* * *

 **I want the future we were promised**

In the whirlwind that are the days after the end of the war, it takes Harry five days to finally find some time to actually meet his godson.

Granted, he had spent almost two of those sleeping—as it turned out, running around England for months on end with little food, breaking in and out of Gringotts and falling into the Lake before fighting in what was already being called the Battle of Hogwarts before actually dying _and_ coming back from the dead had left him exhausted once the adrenaline had run out.

Add to that the Ministry and the press hounding him for answers as to his victory over Voldemort, and the fact that Ron and Hermione had left for Australia—they'd wanted him to go with them, but now that they're trying to define whatever is going on between them, Harry would rather keep his distance until they do (that, and he doesn't really want to leave England)—and Harry's schedule has been busier than it's ever been.

But still, he feels terrible knocking on Andromeda Tonks' door, knowing that the woman essentially just lost her entire family— _because of you_ , his mind whispers, and it's a thought Harry can't quite shut off—and has been left to raise a toddler.

The door swings open and, once again, Harry has to reign in a flinch. Even frazzled as she is now, Andromeda still looks uncannily like her sister. Her _dead sister_ , Harry's mind supplies, and even though Harry hated her, he feels a pang of guilt at the thought of Bellatrix's death and what it means for Andromeda.

"I'm sorry," he says once they're inside, Andromeda having ushered him in quickly. _I'm sorry I didn't give myself in sooner_ — _end this war sooner_ , he doesn't say, because he knows enough to be able to tell that no matter what his heart thinks, it probably wouldn't have helped.

"I'm sorry about Tonks and Remus, and your husband. And," he adds, wincing and almost hesitant to mention it, "about Bellatrix."

Andromeda scoffs, pushing a fuming cup of tea toward him. "You don't have to pretend with me—I know you hated her."

"I did," Harry admits. "But she was still your sister, so I'm sorry."

Andromeda's eyes narrow as she scrutinized his face—looking for what, Harry can't tell. It seems she finds it though, because her face softens a little, lips quirking up into a small, bittersweet smile. She takes a small sip of her own tea before speaking again. "Yeah, well, I lost my sister a long time ago. And Nymphadora… She made her own choices, and I never could have stopped her." She blinks rapidly, fingers tightening around her cup, and Harry willfully ignores the way Andromeda's eyes water a bit.

"I assume you're here for Teddy?" she says suddenly, causing Harry to choke on the tea he had just decided to try.

"Ah, yes," Harry replies once he's done coughing. "I don't know if they told you, but Remus said they'd-"

"-made you godfather, yes," Andromeda nods, lips pursed thinly. She looks defensive, almost scared even, and it makes Harry uneasy.

Harry nods as well. "Yeah." He chuckled, setting down his cup so he could rub at the back of his neck. "I just… I, can I see him?"

Andromeda looks at him silently before nodding once. "Of course," she says. "This way."

She leads Harry upstairs to a bedroom —hers and Ted, Harry realizes, though it's now hers and Teddy.

What must it be like, he wonders, to spend your life with someone by your side and wake up one day knowing they were gone forever, and that all you had left was a baby too young to even talk? Harry doesn't want to know, but he can guess that it isn't exactly pleasant.

A wooden crib stands a few steps away from the bed, by the window. It's rocking slightly even now, a decorative model of the galaxy spinning slowly above it, shooting stars gleaming by every so often as Harry watches.

"He's sleeping," Andromeda whispers as they come closer, and indeed, when Teddy comes into view his eyes are closed and he's sucking on his thumb, hair circling from blue to green and back as he makes little snoring noises.

Harry's heart melts as he reaches to touch feather-soft hair with trembling fingers. "Hi, there," he says softly, voice choked up with emotions he doesn't have a name for. "I'm Harry, our godfather—it's very nice to meet you."

Teddy shifts a little, moaning at the new sound, but he doesn't wake. "Is it, err, is it normal for him to sleep at this hour?"

"He's napping," Andromeda reassures him, her face pulled into a complicated expression. "He's fine."

Harry nods rapidly. "That's good. That's, err, very good." He feels awkward and out of place here—what does he know about children?—but he wants to try. He wants to try to be there for Teddy, this boy who, just like him, lost his parents too young. He wants it so bad it hurts.

He wants Teddy to know him, the way Harry himself never really knew his own godfather.

They reluctantly withdraw back to the living-room, Harry's eyes wandering over the decor in an effort to ignore the awkward silence that has settled in between them.

He hadn't noticed it the last—and only—time he'd been there, though he _had_ been rather preoccupied with other, more pressing matters then, but now, he can see that this house has been well-lived in.

It's different from the Weasleys' home, he notes with a certain amount of fascination, but at the same time, Harry can't imagine any house being quite like the Burrow, though that might just be because of how fond of the people there Harry is.

Harry spots pink paint marks, half-erased by time, on the wall as they pass by, and his lips drift up in a smile. He can guess as to who made these, and he wonders if maybe Teddy will have his parents' mischievous streak and makes similar marks as he grows. He thinks he'd like to be around to see that.

Their tea is cold now, but with magic, it doesn't stay so for long. Harry is glad for the distraction—he doesn't really know what he'd expected coming here, and he still doesn't, but holding onto a cup of tea gives him something to anchor himself when his thoughts start to drift.

"So, what will you be doing now?" Andromeda asks. Her voice is hard, and Harry can't quite figure out why.

"Ron and I have been offered a place in the Auror program," Harry replies, bittersweet. Hermione had, of course, been offered the same, but she'd wanted to actually graduate from Hogwarts first. Ron had been glad to get to avoid one year of schooling entirely, while Harry… Well, Harry wasn't sure he could stand to spend a year in Hogwarts now, when the memories of it being home are tainted with the war.

Still, being an Auror is what he's wanted since his fifth year at Hogwarts—he just wishes it didn't come from another 'Boy-Who-Lived' favoritism effort on the Ministry's part.

"I see," Andromeda says. She says and leans forward suddenly, dark eyes narrowed and staring into Harry's with laser-thin focus. "And what about Teddy? Where does he factor in your plans?"

Harry blinks, mouth dropping open a little as he realizes—finally—what this is about. "I don't- I won't take him from you," he states. "I wouldn't know how to raise a child anyway," he adds, smiling self-deprecatingly. "I just… I want to be there for him."

Andromeda's smile unfurls on her lips slowly, but once it's there, she looks like a different person.

"Well, then," she starts, "I guess we better make some plans." Her eyes soften and she reaches out, resting a hand on Harry's comfortingly. "But you'll always be welcome here, if you want to visit Teddy."

"Thank you," Harry replies, voice tight with emotions. " _Thank you_."

"Don't thank me yet," Andromeda snorts. "You haven't had to change his diapers yet, or had him wake you up in the middle of the night."

The idea that he will get to be around for these moments is more than enough to offset the unease he feels at the thoughts of them—besides, how hard can it truly get? Surely, this will be nothing compared to the war and spending a year running for his life.

Surely.

* * *

After his first visit to Andromeda, Harry lives with the Weasleys for another week before one afternoon, on his daily visit, the widow takes one look at his drawn face and offers him the guest room.

"You're here often enough to deserve it anyway," she tells him, but Harry can guess that her being lonely in this house, with only a baby for company, played a big part in her offering this.

Harry takes a few moments to consider his options, but, well… He can either go back to living at Grimmauld Place, which feels weird now that he doesn't actually have to stay there to be safe, or keep living with the Weasleys, which doesn't feel right when they're all mourning for Fred.

"I wouldn't want to impose," he still replies.

Andromeda rolls her eyes. "Trust me, you'd be doing me a favor. I'm not as young as I used to be, you know."

Harry bites back a sarcastic retort—he can tell when someone is humoring him, thank you very much—and settles for raising an eyebrow.

"Teddy will like having you around more," she adds, and okay, yes, how is Harry supposed to say no to that?

"You don't play fair," Harry says. He'd be impressed by Andromeda's skills if they weren't being used against him.

"I play to win," Andromeda corrects. She looks very regal like this, cup of tea in hand and sitting in her purple velvet chair with her back straight. There is not a single shred of doubt on her face.

Harry laughs. "Alright, then. You win," he says, and he gets the feeling that this was the only answer he could have given anyway. "I'll move in."

"Good," Andromeda smiles.

Of course, leaving the Burrow behind isn't that easy.

Ginny, by what is either the greatest or the worst stroke of luck Harry's had recently, is the one who walks in on him packing up.

She frowns, a gesture that only makes the dark bags under her eyes more prominent, and for a moment Harry wants to reach out to her, wrap her in a hug and never let her go. But he can't—by his own fault, they broke up months ago, and this isn't the right time to get back together. Sometimes, when he's feeling particularly cynical, he wonders if that time will ever come.

"You don't have to leave, you know," Ginny states, sitting heavily on Ron's bed and crossing her legs. She holds onto her ankles with both hands, and Harry can see that her nails are bitten so badly it looks painful.

Harry sighs and stops his spell, his few belongings collapsing back onto the ground with a soft thud. "I do, though," he says, running a hand through his hair and looking at her pleadingly. "I can't just stay here—Ginny, with what happened-" even now he can't bear to speak Fred's name out loud in this house, where his ghost seems to hang heaviest, "-your family should stick together. I shouldn't… I shouldn't be here."

Faster than Harry can avoid, Ginny strikes and slaps him on the arm. The angle is a little awkward, with him still standing and her sitting, so it's probably not as strong as she intended it to be, but it still stings.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"You're part of this family, too, you idiot," she snaps, eyes ablaze. "Don't try to say that you don't mourn Fred just as much as we do!"

"Of course, I do," Harry retorts angrily. "But that doesn't make me one of you either." _Despite how much I might want to, sometimes,_ he doesn't add, but the words are eagerly waiting at the tip of his tongue.

"Look," he says, deflating a little and rubbing at his neck. "This isn't about you, alright? I'd love to stay here, but I can't. _I_ can't. Ginny, it feels like I'm drowning here."

The anger leaves Ginny suddenly, leaving her looking as tired as Harry feels. "Why didn't you say anything? You know we'd have helped you."

Harry laughs bitterly. "You shouldn't have to, though." Already he regrets confessing this to Ginny, but at the same time, he doesn't. Someone would have found out eventually, he thinks, and he'd rather it be Ginny than, say, Hermione or Molly, who'd never let it rest.

He sighs, and Ginny must read something of what he's feeling on his face because she just nods.

"Where will you go?" she asks. "Back to Grimmauld Place? You know Mum won't like that."

Despite himself, Harry's lips quirk up in a smile and he huffs out a laugh. "Good thing I'm not going there then." He looks down at his hands, biting his lips nervously. "I- Actually, Andromeda offered me her guest room. So I could, you know, be closer to Teddy."

Ginny blinks, surprised. "That's nice of her. I didn't know you went to see them."

"I didn't tell you?" Harry frowns, searching his memories for the conversation he's sure he's had at some point over the past few days. When he comes up empty, and Ginny only shakes her head, he blushes a little, embarrassed. "Sorry. I guess I should have told you."

"Maybe," Ginny says, shrugging. "You don't really owe me anything, though."

Harry smiles blankly, because they both know that isn't true. Finally, Ginny huffs out a humorless laugh and stands up.

"Well, I'd better let you get back to it, I guess. Good luck telling Mum you're leaving—she's still not over Ron and Hermione skipping off to Australia; though I guess you did pick a good excuse, at least."

"Andromeda didn't exactly leave me much of a choice," Harry retorts.

"What, the Chosen One couldn't say 'no' to a middle-aged woman? Stop the presses!"

"I think anyone would be unable to say 'no' to Andromeda Tonks if she wanted them to say 'yes'," Harry snorts.

Ginny laughs, and for a moment it almost feels like they're back to normal—back to how they were, before. The moment stretches, and in his mind's eye, Harry sees himself cross the distance between Ginny and him, holding her close and asking her to take him back.

He blinks, and the moment is broken, Ginny already through the door.

Harry turns back to his packing with a heart that is still inexplicably lighter.

Two hours later, he negotiates leaving with minimal fuss in return for bringing Teddy and Andromeda to weekly dinners. Molly looks more alive than she had since the Battle, and Harry can read the relief on every Weasley's face.

That, and the fact that Teddy needs more family than just Andromeda and him, is part of what makes it so easy to accept.

When he leaves, Arthur hugs him tightly and whispers a heartfelt _Thank you_ in his ear that echoes deep in his soul. Despite that, what he remembers the most is the way Ginny's lips felt on his cheek as she pressed a soft, slow kiss there.

* * *

Harry quickly comes to understand that Andromeda hadn't been lying when she'd said that Harry being around would be a great help to her.

Teddy, as it turns out, _has_ inherited his parents' mischievousness. Harry dreads to think of what he'll like once he can walk and talk, because so far Teddy can't do either and he's already a terror.

The one good thing about that, though, is that between the days he spends at the Ministry and the evenings/mornings he spends helping take care of Teddy, he is always exhausted enough that he falls asleep the moment his head touches the pillow. That Teddy screaming hungrily in the middle usually wakes him up before his nightmares can get too bad is another bonus.

He sometimes spends the rest of the night after that watching him spell, heart tight with worry that makes him check every few seconds that Teddy is still breathing, that he's still okay (all too often, his dreams start including the body of a blue-haired baby, tucked in between his parents—they had looked like they were sleeping, too). He doesn't get much sleep, but it's still more than what he got at the Burrow, where the sorrowful atmosphere had seeped deep into his bones and made it hard to breathe.

Dinner at the Burrow is quite something. The food is amazing, of course—nothing on par with what Andromeda and Harry, who alternative cooking dinner every other day, can make—and it makes Harry consider asking Molly for lessons. He thinks he'll appreciate those more coming from someone who won't take a swing at him with the frying pan if he makes a mistake, and if they're to help feed people who actually like his food and are grateful for it.

The atmosphere is still off, though—possibly in part because Ron, and Hermione, still aren't back. Arthur and Molly both keep looking to the window like maybe this time an owl will come flying in with some news—Molly more obviously so than her husband, but not more so—and Harry desperately wishes he had the heart to buy another owl after Hedwig and send it out to his two best friends.

Percy sits awkwardly next to George—Bill and Fleur are on the honeymoon they never got to take, and Charlie's back in Romania—but for the first time, Harry can see him as a big brother, acting concerned for a younger sibling. It's a little weird, but oddly reassuring.

The conversation is stilted, more silence than words, and the sounds of cutlery scraping at empty plates sound deafening in that dead kind of quiet.

Andromeda had excused herself for the night, claiming she was too tired to go out, so she isn't with them tonight; but when Harry had arrived at the Burrow, Molly had remembered that today had been Ted's birthday. Harry hadn't even realized.

Teddy is sleeping in a transfigured crib placed in Ron's room, and for a moment Harry envies him. But then his eyes cross Ginny's, who gives him a violent eye-roll, and Harry smiles.

"So, Harry, did you get any news from Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asks, since it's become clear her parents won't dare to.

"Not really," Harry sighs. "I mean, nothing since their last letter." That letter, arrived a week ago, had told them that the duo had gotten to Australia safely and had found Hermione's parents, though they hadn't seen them yet. Ron had added that they'd leave when Hermione thought her parents were safe and happy.

"What are they doing, do you think?" Ginny asks curiously.

Harry shrugs, pushing at the lone pea left on his plate. "They'll probably come back soon."

"Or maybe they've decided to sight-see," Ginny suggests, though from her salacious eyebrow wiggle, sight-seeing isn't one of the activities she thinks her brother and his girlfriend are up to.

"Maybe," Harry snorts. "Ron has convinced Hermione of crazier things, after all."

Ginny wiggles her eyebrow again, and this time Harry barks out a laugh.

George's chair scraps loudly against the floor as he abruptly leaves the table, and all levity feels sucked out of the atmosphere.

"I'm sorry," Harry says, swallowing thickly. "I didn't mean to…" He falls silent, words inadequate to describe the situation.

"It's fine, dear," Molly replies, patting his hand kindly. Even her eyes are kind, but in this moment it hurts more than anything else. "George is just…" She blinks rapidly, eyes filled with tears. Her voice is trembling, but she continues bravely, "George is going through a rough patch right now, but he'll get through it. He will."

Around the table, everyone nods somberly.

"I'll go after him."

It still surprises Harry to hear those words come out from Percy's mouth; even now that he's seen the former Prefect hover around his brother in a way worthy of his mother.

Harry surprises himself even more by speaking. "No, I'll go after him. I should apologize."

"I'll go with you," Ginny states almost immediately, before correcting herself. "To show you the way," she jokes, but it falls flat.

Still, Harry nods and Percy sits back down as Ginny and Harry rise.

"You shouldn't apologize for moving on," Ginny tells him as soon as they're outside hearing range. "Or beginning to," she corrects herself when Harry simply stares blankly at her.

"I'm not- That's not what I'm doing," he stutters.

Ginny's silence as they climb the stair is very pointed until Harry breaks it. "I just… For a moment, I looked at you and I forgot that everything was still so screwed up around us. You made me want to laugh and I did, and I forgot that George was there, that he wouldn't handle it well. Does that make me selfish?"

Ginny's lips twitch into a smile as the tips of her ear turn red. "I forgot about the rest of the world too," she confesses. "I just wanted to make you laugh. And no," she finishes, stopping in front of a door that still reads _Gred and Forge's room_ , "that doesn't make you selfish."

She heads back down after that, and taking a deep breath, Harry knocks on the door and, without waiting for an answer, opens it and walks in.

* * *

Harry's never been in the twins' room before, but he can't imagine it ever looked this lifeless before. It's like the light doesn't dare enter the room; sadness has settled in like a shroud, and it doesn't want to leave.

George is sitting on one of the two beds with his back to the wall and he's staring outside the window. He looks like his sadness is so deep he's forgotten how to even cry.

"Why did you come back?" George asks, voice raw. He doesn't turn to face Harry, but it's clear that he knows who's in the room anyway.

Harry closes the door behind him, but he doesn't dare step deeper in the room. That feels like intruding.

"I came because everyone's worried about you," Harry says, shuffling awkwardly on his feet. He clears his throat. "Listen, about downstairs… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"That's not what I meant," George interrupts. This time, he turns around. His eyes are frighteningly empty. "You died, didn't you? Why did _you_ come back?" George stops himself before he actually says it, grief and regret flashing on his face, but the _Why didn't_ Fred _come back too?_ echoes in the silence between them.

Harry's breath catches in his chest. He feels like he's been punched in the stomach. "I don't know," he somehow manages to reply. He takes a few unsteady steps and sits on the edge of the bed facing the one George is on. "I really don't know."

He casts his mind back to the Forest, to that awful walk he had been sure would be his last—how prepared he had been, for it to be his last, and how lost he was, when he realized that it hadn't been, that he would get to live through this.

George keeps staring at him, lips pursed. There's an air of desperation about him, like he has questions he needs to ask, but also like he'd rather not voice them out loud.

And just like that, Harry knows what to say.

"It's peaceful, you know," he starts, turning his head to face the ceiling. His sight goes blurry underneath his glasses, and no amount of blinking can make those tears go away. His throat goes tight. "Dying. It's probably not much of a comfort, but it's really peaceful. Quiet," he laughs tearfully, shrugging a little.

It occurs to him that Fred will probably delight in messing up that quiet, and the thought makes him smile. When he shares it with George, the redhead lets out a bark of laughter. He seems surprised at himself for a moment, like he'd forgotten he could do that, and then he starts crying. Crying, and laughing through his tears, like the idea of his twin causing chaos in the afterlife is the funniest thing he's ever heard, but also the saddest.

To Harry, that sounds about right.

Eventually, George's sobs subside, his shoulders stop shaking. By then, Harry's own tears have long dried on his cheeks.

"Should we go back downstairs?" Harry finally asks, licking his lips slowly. They still taste a little like salt, he notes. He's not sure how he feels about that.

"You go ahead," George replies. "I'll follow." He smiles, a trembling forlorn thing—but a smile all the same. It's the first Harry's seen on George's face since Fred died, and it makes him hope.

Harry nods, not trusting his voice. Just as he's about to cross the door, George calls back to him.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," George says. He bows his head slightly, and when he speaks, shame colors his voice. "And I'm sorry for earlier, about what I said." He swallows hard. "I shouldn't have- You didn't deserve that from me."

A smile tugging at his lips, Harry shrugs. "Did it help?"

George startles, but after a pause, he nods. Harry's smile widens. "Then it's fine. I'm glad I could help. I'll see you downstairs."

George hums his agreement, and Harry leaves. On his way down, he pauses by Ron's room. Teddy's still sleeping, but when Harry steps inside, a floorboard creaks and Teddy wakes up. He almost immediately notices Harry and starts babbling at him.

Harry pulls him up and into his arms, and starts grinning helplessly.

"Hey, Teddy," he coos. "How about we head back downstairs for a bit, uh? And then we'll head back home—does that sound alright to you?"

Teddy gurgles happily again, his chubby hands grabbing for Harry's glasses.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Harry chuckles. "Come on, let's go."

When Harry gets downstairs, the atmosphere is as tense as he remembers it, though dessert is on the table now. Teddy, who somehow already seems to share his father's fondness for chocolate when he's never done more than smell it, makes grabby hands for the chocolate cake on the far end of the table. In his defense, it does smell and look rather delicious.

Teddy's presence, and Harry's announcement that George isn't far behind him, has everyone relaxing almost instantly. It's like a switch has been turned on—or a _Lumos_ been cast, Harry supposes. Suddenly, people are smiling at Teddy and rising from their seats to get closer to him; Molly and Arthur chief among them, as Teddy's hair switches to a red-orange that matches their perfectly.

"It was a good thing you did, agreeing to help take care of him," Arthur says, clasping Harry on the shoulder.

"I didn't really have any other choice," Harry replies, looking down at Teddy fondly.

"We always have a choice," Arthur retorts.

"I didn't," Harry says, shaking his head, because no, he really hadn't had any other choice. He couldn't let Teddy grow up without him.

Arthur looks so proud that it steals Harry's breath away. Is this what his father would have looked like, had Harry done something to make him proud of him too? If so, it really is no wonder so many people strive for their parents' approval.

"I guess you didn't, no," Arthur replies, oddly solemn. He steps back and they sit back down, Teddy sitting on Harry's lap.

Just as they finish with dessert, George wanders down. For a moment, everyone tenses again, but George simply nods and takes back his seat, in between his mother and brother.

"Are you alright, George?" Molly asks tentatively, anxiously.

George sighs, twirling his spoon between his fingers. "Not yet," he says. "But… I think I will be."

Under everyone's stunned faces, Molly bursts into tears and pulls George into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry," he frowns.

Harry averts his eyes. This doesn't feel like something he's meant to be witness to. In doing so, he finds himself staring straight at Ginny's, who smiles tearfully at him. There's a wealth of gratitude in her brown eyes that Harry's can't get over.

'Want to get out of here?' he mouths.

'Sure,' Ginny mouths back, lips pulling up into a smile.

Percy eyes them as they leave—Harry carrying Teddy in his arms—but he doesn't say anything, just turns back to staring at George like he can't believe what he's seeing, like his brother is a miracle.

"I don't know what you just did, but thank you," Ginny says once they're outside.

They start walking, though Harry doesn't think they have a direction. It's isn't night yet, so the sun is still up, but the blue of the sky has started to turn into the pinks and purples of sunset. There's a light breeze, too, and it smells of apples and summer.

"I didn't do anything," Harry replies.

"Harry Potter," Ginny teases. "Must you always be so modest?"

Harry sighs, shifting his grip on Teddy a little so the boy can wrap his arms around Harry's neck. "I didn't do anything," he repeats. "We just talked. I told him-" he licks his lips, tightening his hold on Teddy reflexively, "I told him about the Forest; about dying."

Ginny falters. "You've never told me about that," she says, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Harry sighs again. "I don't like to think about it," he admits. "If I do, sometimes it feels like I'm back there."

"Oh."

"Yeah, _oh_ ," Harry replies, chuckling darkly.

Ginny frowns, narrowing her eyes. "So, how badly do I need to beat my brother up?"

Harry snorts. "You don't have to beat up anyone," he says. "It's fine. I'm fine—I can deal with it."

"Well, if you're sure," Ginny says, eyebrow raised dubiously.

"I am," Harry replies confidently. "But thanks for the offer—I appreciate you being willing to defend my honor and all."

"Anytime," Ginny quips, winking. "You know I'm always up for an opportunity to practice my Bat Bogey Hex."

"Yeah, I do," Harry snorts.

They walk some more before they decide to head back. By then, Teddy has nodded off again.

"He's adorable," Ginny whispers. "I didn't know babies could be so cute."

"Neither did I," Harry replies just as quietly.

Ginny stares at him. Somehow, they'd stopped moving, and now the atmosphere feels charged with something electric.

Harry isn't really sure who moves first, or if it even matters, when the end result would have been the same: them kissing.

He had forgotten how much he liked this, how weightless and free he felt with Ginny by his side, her lips pressed against his.

The angle is awkward though, with Teddy being pressed between them, and so they draw back. They're both smiling giddily though, so it can't have been bad.

They resume their walk, chuckling quietly.

"Hey, Ginny?" Harry asks as they reach the door. "Would you go on a date with me?"

Ginny's smile widens into a happy grin. "Sure. I'll pick you up next Tuesday at seven," she adds, smirking.

"Aren't I supposed to be the one to pick you up, seeing I'm the one who asked you out?" Harry snorts.

"Nope," Ginny replies. "I said it first, you're too late. You'll have to do better next time."

 _Next time._ Harry quite likes the sound of that.

* * *

Months ago now, on his first night after moving in with Andromeda, Teddy had woken up Harry with his crying, and Harry had never felt so helpless or terrified. Nothing he tried worked, and Teddy just kept on wailing into the night until Andromeda arrived and took over.

It hadn't taken long for Harry to get the hang of it—to be able to calm down Teddy just as easily (if not more so, at times) than Andromeda—but back then, the task had been daunting, a mountain Harry would never have managed to get across.

But all that blood-curdling terror, all that terrible, dreadful panic, had been nothing compared to what Harry is feeling now.

"Da!" Teddy repeats, arms raised toward Harry. There is no mistaking that sound—that word—not when Teddy repeats it yet another time.

Harry's blood feels frozen in his chest, and he's fairly sure he's stopped breathing at some point.

Teddy keeps calling out to him, now more impatient, and Harry can tell from the wobbling note in his tone that he's about to start crying in distress. And yet, he still can't move.

This can't be happening. This wasn't supposed to happen—Harry was never supposed to take Remus' place, was never supposed to be Teddy's _Dad_. He has just wanted to be there for his godson, and now he's screwed even that up.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry—I can't," he stutters, turning to face Andromeda with pleading eyes.

Andromeda, who moments earlier had called him out of his room to tell him that Teddy had learned a new word—his third, after the 'Ga'ma' he used to refer to Andromeda and 'Up'. Andromeda, who had sounded so happy, and whose smile is now fading from her face rapidly.

Harry feels like he can't breathe. He needs to leave, now.

"I'm sorry," he repeats as he flees, feeling more and more like a coward and hating himself for it.

He only starts feeling like his lungs are working again once he's Apparated far away from Andromeda's place.

It takes him a moment to recognize the cemetery. It looks different in the summer than it had in the winter, and yet the same peaceful atmosphere Harry remembers remains as he lets his feet guide him to his parents' grave.

He kneels there, bowing his head as he traces the letters engraved on the tombstone.

"Hi, Mum, hi, Dad," he greets. "I'm sorry I haven't been there in so long—again." He chuckles humorlessly. "You must think I'm a terrible son, don't you? I certainly am doing a bang-up job of being a godfather."

Once he's started, it's like he can't stop. The words pour out of him like a torrent, and it is as freeing as it is terrifying.

He tells them everything that's happened since the war—working to become an Auror, working things out with Ginny, and Teddy. Of course, he speaks about Teddy.

"He's a great kid," he says, and this time he's not talking his parents anymore. "You'd love him, Re-"

He cuts himself off, choking on his own words.

"I didn't try to take your place, I swear," he pleads, the dead man's shadow stark behind the eyes he's clenched shut. "I didn't go into this wanting to be his _father_ , because I know I'm not. But- but," he stutters, "Teddy doesn't have a father, and I was there, and I don't know how to tell him that I'm not, that I'm not." He chokes up again.

"Merlin, would he even understand?" he asks the empty air beside him, before scoffing at himself. "Of course, he wouldn't—he's not even two yet."

A loud _crack_ startles him out of his jumbled rant, causing his eyes to fly open as he grabs his wands and spins around. After so long spent kneeling in the dirt, his legs ache, but this vigilance is a reflex that dies hard.

The face that greets him as he turns is a friendly, if unexpected one though.

"Hermione? What are you doing here?" Harry asks, bewildered.

"Looking for you, obviously," Hermione replies, rolling her eyes. "The better question is 'what are _you_ doing here?'"

"I…" Harry falters, looking back at his parents' grave. "Could we do this somewhere else?"

Hermione's stern face softens. "I'll tell the others I found you."

"T-the _others_?! Hermione, how many people have been looking for me?" Harry gasps.

Hermione shrugs as she summons a Patronus. "Andromeda Floo-called us at the Burrow, said you'd ran away and didn't look well, so when we didn't hear from you for hours, we went looking for you—and by we, I mean Ron and I. Ginny, too, of course—I think Neville and Luna joined as well, but they agreed to keep an eye on the grounds around Hogwarts."

She gives her Patronus her message, and then turns back to Harry. "So, where do you want to do this?"

He considers fighting this interrogation he knows is coming—he's rather sure he can still outstubborn Hermione—but in the end, he decides not to. He's in desperate need of advice, and Hermione's has always helped him before.

He heaves a sigh. "Think we could get Ron to join us?"

Hermione smirks. "I'm way ahead of you there—he should be here soon."

Ron Apparates right in front of them as they exit the cemetery. He immediately looks at Harry in concern. "You alright, mate?"

"Yeah," Harry nods, "I'm fine."

He doesn't have to see them to know that his two best friends are exchanging doubting looks behind his back, so he repeats it, a little more forcefully. "I'm fine, really."

"If you say so," Ron replies, clearly not convinced. "So, where are we going?"

"There should be some kind of bar in this town, shouldn't there?" Harry shrugs. "I'm sure we could find somewhere to sit and talk there."

There is indeed a bar in Godric's Hollow—an open one, at that. It feels rather good to get out of the sun, since cooling charms can only do so much, and Harry's rather glad to find that they're the only ones there.

Ron orders a plate of chips almost as soon as they're seated, and Harry follows him quickly, realizing suddenly that he's ravenous. Hermione rolls her eyes but gets chips as well, and they all ask for water.

Once the waitress is gone, Hermione asks, "So, why'd run?"

Harry fiddles with his napkin. "Teddy learned a new word today," he says evenly.

Hermione grins, eager and bright. "Harry, that's fantastic! What is it?" Her grin falters when Harry doesn't seem to share her enthusiasm.

"It's a curse word, isn't it?" Ron teases, almost laughing. "You know, it's really not that big of a deal—I'm pretty sure the twins taught me a lot of those before I was even five."

Harry tries to smile but it comes out as a grimace. He wishes the water was here already, so he'd have an excuse not to talk for even a few more instants.

He licks his lips nervously. "Teddy called me 'Da' today," he finally says, and wishes he could state it with the proper amount of gravity it deserves.

Ron immediately claps him on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Congrats, mate!" he laughs.

Harry doesn't laugh.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathes out softly, eyes shining with compassion. "It's really nothing to be afraid of."

"I'm not afraid," Harry scoffs. "I just… I don't want to replace Remus—I'm not Teddy's father. I don't want to wake up one day and think that I, that I _usurped_ his father's place in his life."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione says pityingly, resting her hand on his. "You haven't usurped anything—Remus is dead. It's terrible, and we can wish the world otherwise all we want, but it still happened. Teddy never knew him, and now he can only learn of him through the stories we tell him, and that'll never replace him having an actual living person raising him and taking care of him."

Harry feels cold. "So, you're saying that, what? I should give up Remus' memory, just like that? Replace him as father of his _son_?"

Hermione looks offended. "Of course not!" she snaps. "But you also shouldn't try to distance yourself from Teddy when all that will do is hurt him _and_ you. Not when he already considers you his father."

Ron nods besides them. "Also, if you haven't noticed that you've basically been fathering Teddy since you first met him, you're either stupid or willfully blind, and I think we both know it ain't the first one," he snorts. "I mean, apart from the obvious, actual fathering part, what haven't you done for him that a father would have?"

"I…"

"Nothing, Harry, that's the answer. Heck, you even asked _my_ father for advice with Teddy."

Harry swallows hard. He gets a short respite as the waitress comes back, carrying their food and drinks, but as soon as she's gone his friends' gazes burrow back into him.

"I just… I can't replace Remus like this. It's not right."

"You're not _replacing_ him," Hermione grumbles, rolling her eyes. "Remus will always be his birth father, just like Tonks will always be his birth mother. You can think of it like adoption if you like, but in the end, you're just doing what he would have wanted you to do: you're taking care of his kid. I know he and Tonks wouldn't have named you godfather if this hadn't been what they wanted, if something happened to them. Trust in them and their choice, if you won't trust in yourself or our words."

"Come on, Harry, just stop beating yourself up over this," Ron adds, munching on a golden chip. "You're making the kid happy, aren't you? Shouldn't that be all that matters?"

Harry blinks. It feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. "You're right," he says. "Both of you, you're right."

It shouldn't feel like the revelation it does, because none of what his friends have said hasn't been thoughts Harry himself has had a thousand times, but it does. Somehow, hearing these answers voiced out loud by answers gave them the legitimacy his own brain never managed to.

"Thank you," he adds, heartfelt. "Thank you."

His friends laugh. "Just go, Harry," Hermione replies, no doubt seeing on his face what Harry himself is feeling: that while his body is still here, his mind's already back in Andromeda's house, with the godson he considers as a son.

"Say 'hi' to Teddy from us, will you?" Ron shouts as Harry hurries up to leave.

"I will," Harry shouts back, a grin splitting his face. He feels buoyant—happy like he never has before.

Merlin, if this is what the rest of his life will look like, just bring it on. He's ready.


End file.
